Uncle Severus
by NancyBlue
Summary: Severus Snape survives Nagini's bite at the end of book 7 but is in a deep coma.  But, after 19 years Snape wakes up. Left with no other aternative, Snape moves in with the Potters and becomes "Uncle Severus"
1. Chapter 1

The small room tucked away in a nearly forgotten corner of St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries looked the same as it had for the past 19 years on this particular day. At 3:00 in the afternoon, a slight wizard with disheveled jet black hair and crooked glasses was strolling down the hallway, just as he had done once a week for every one of those years. To him, the day seemed perfectly ordinary, quite similar to a lot of the ones he lived through for a matter of fact. He entered the room, smiling briefly at a nurse who returned the gesture only to blush and quickly turn away, feigning interest in the plant she was watering. The wizard (who's name was Harry by the way) flopped down in a chair next to the hospital bed, and pulled out some official looking Ministry of Magic papers, intending to get some work done during his visit. Harry's mind, however, had different ideas. It drifted to his children, and most of all to his youngest son, Albus. Earlier that week Al and his older brother James had boarded the Hogwarts express, sending Al to his first year of wizarding school. Harry knew that Hogwarts would probably give his son the best years of his life, but he couldn't help but worry for him. His thoughts continued to wander, bringing up old memories from his school days, and before he knew it darkness had fallen and visiting hours were almost over. Harry was just collecting himself and reading over his papers when he heard a grunt in the direction of the bed. The sound was alarming, as the man in the bed (who's chart read Montague Prince) had not made any in the past two decades. Harry jumped, eyes wide and fixed on the figure next to him. With a certain horror he realized that the man's face had started twitching, and in a sudden movement he had propped himself up on one arm. If the sound the man had made before was alarming, the one he was making now, a rattling, wheezing breath, was, well...real freaking horror show. Harry jumped to his feet, numbed with surprise. "Professor, Professor! Be careful! You should lay back down." It was odd how _Professor_ was the only word Harry could call this man. In the days when he had been conscious Harry could barley muster uttering a _Sir i_n his direction. The man heard him and stopped still, slumping against the bed and squinted disbelievingly at Harry's face hanging above him.

"_Potter? _You're still here?"

"Er... well, yeah." replied Harry "Im not really sure what you mean...but, hold on, I'll find the nurse" Harry darted to the door wanting to escape this jolt to his reality. Could he really be up _now_ after all these years? As Harry did this, Severus Snape took a moment to look at his small hospital room, take in the randomly purchased plants and copies of _Witch Weekly_ Harry had bought to make the place look homey, and gape at his former student and secret ward. Harry looked older, yet disturbingly the same and Snape couldn't quite comprehend the situation he was in.

"Why am I in the hospital, Potter?" demanded Snape harshly. Harry nervously tried to avoid the gaze of his former potions teacher, silently hoping that he had actually fallen asleep and that all of this was a very messed up dream.

"Professor, its all very complicated, Im just going to get the nurse and-"

"_POTTER_! If you do not inform my as to why I am her this instant I will-" Harry looked up and caught Snape's glare for just a flash of a second. In it he saw confusion and desperation so intense that he was taken aback. The old spy's face was contorted and paler than snow, he looked nearly dead. Harry couldn't bear to look at it for another moment, and turning away, decided that it would be too cruel to make the man wait.

"Alright" he said, tensely, "Just give me a second, okay?" He still could not seem to form a coherent thought about how to explain the last two decades to a person who still seemed to hold nothing but hatred and contempt for him. "Merlin's Beard, how do I even start?" he uttered, rubbing his temples fiercely, "Erm...well...19 years ago, during the Battle of Hogwarts-"

"_19 _years?" Harry did not want to see Snape's expression as the news hit him. He ignored the comment and stared diligently at anything other than those dark tunnel eyes and ghostly complexion as he paced back and forth.

"we were in the shrieking shack, you were bitten my Voldemort's..." out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Snape's mouth twitch, but the man said nothing, so he continued "snake bit you, and we all thought you were dead, but then it turns out that you weren't, so I had you sent here." Harry, upon finishing, realized what an abrupt explanation he had given and tried even harder to avoid eye contact, now attempting to memorize the pattern of the floor tiles. Snape was quiet for what seemed like an eternity, and Harry felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room.

"The Dark Lord is dead?" Snape finally asked, in a slow, weary voice that seemed foreign coming from his lips.

"Yes. Very dead."

"At your wondrously skilled hand, I presume?" _Once a cranky old git, always a cranky old git_, thought Harry, _you would think a 20 year nap would make him a bit more tolerable... _

"No, no! Crabbe and Goyle did it, of course!" countered Harry with a grin he knew would irk the older wizard.

"Don't get cheeky with me, Potter."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Snape fired a glare at Harry right out of their days as together in the dungeons.

"_You _sent me here?" he asked, incrediously. Harry met his gaze now, marveling at how Snape could make him feel 11 years old again even after years of being unconscious.

"Yeah" he countered, gaining confidence as he registered that Snape was the same man as the frail and sickly one he had been visiting. Snape stared at him for what felt like hours and eventually asked "Why?" in a sarcastic tone, adding "Don't you have master of the world duties to attend to?"

"I figured I owed you one" Snape rolled his eyes "or a couple. You saved my life a lot when I was a kid..."

"Well-" a dark eye brow arched over Severus' bone pale forehead as he prepared to comment.

"I know it was your job and all that, but I wasn't about to let you die" Snape looked away, appearing to be deep in thought. For a moment Harry wondered it it really had been the right thing to keep him alive all this time, because for a moment, it looked as if Snape would have preferred to die. He shit his eyes and sighed deeply, his eyebrow crunched until you could not distinguish one from the other. Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned to Harry with a half curious half exasperated face.

"Well, I am honored to be at the receiving end of another selfless act from Saint Potter" Snape drawled. "But, that still doesn't explain why you are here. I find it hard to imagine the 'Chosen One' sitting vigil at my bedside all these years." Harry was nervous about answering this one, he didn't quite know himself. He guessed he came every week for some solitude, to pay respect to this man that he owed so much to without having to be at the receiving end of his snippy comments, which had somehow re-entered his life as if they had not skipped a beat. After a few more long moments of examining the floor, he heard Snape's voice again. "Are you going to say something useful or just stand there like an idiot?" Harry sighed, and because he couldn't think of anything better to say, replied with "I'm here because I'm in love with you" hoping his voice could convey sarcasm as well as Snape's, and began to walk towards the door.

"Potter!" Harry turned to see Snape with a face of utter confusion "you are very strange" he said, in an uncharacteristically defeated tone.

"So I've heard." Harry walked back down the corridor, glad to be out of the most surreal conversation he had encountered in years. He nearly ran into the nurse while he was leaving and asked her to "Please give Mr. Prince a shot of firewhiskey for me won't you?" to which we received an even deeper blush than before and bewildered laughter. He chuckled to himself as he apparted home to have supper with Lily and Ginny


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Harry woke up groggily to the squawking of Tybalt, the family owl. "Merlin's beard" he mumbled into his pillow, rolling over to face his wife. Ginny's red hair was tangled over her face, and the muffled sounds of snoring seeping through it revealed that Mrs. Potter was obviously blissfully unaware of the interruption to Harry's sleep. _Is Al sending us letters already? _He thought anxiously, stumbling out of bed to grab the envelope clutched in Tybalt's claws. He thought Hogwarts might be a hard transition for his less outgoing son, but he wasn't expecting to hear from him this soon. As it turns out, the letter wasn't from his younger son, but from his first born, James, and was but a once sentence exclamation "I MADE THE QUIDDITCH TEAM! You can be proud to call your son Gryffindor's new SEEKER!" Harry _was_ proud, a smile spread across his face as his thoughts were carried back to the day when he was made seeker in his first year at school. It was still one of the best memories of his life.

"What are you so happy about?" Ginny asked through her hair as she lazily propped herself on one arm and stretched. "Finally up?" asked Harry, he looked back to the bed and his grin grew a bit larger "Our son is the new Gryffindor seeker" he said with mock haughtiness.

"Oh great, another cocky Quidditch player in the family" Ginny laughed and sat up, sweeping her hair behind her head. Harry crawled back into bed, looking at his wife with a raised eyebrow.

"If I remember correctly, you were a cocky Quidditch player yourself"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about" Ginny's laugh sounded again, its tinkling sharpness cutting straight through the morning fog. Harry joined her, and soon they were locked in to a familiar tangle of morning giggles.

"What's so funny?" asked a small voice from the doorway, belonging to Lily Potter.

"Ah, nothing sweetheart" said Harry, as he slid out of bed and lifted up his daughter, "Your big brother made the Quidditch team."

"I want to play Quidditch!" she exclaimed, her face brightening. Her parents caught each other's eyes and suppressed a chuckle.

"Oh, no!" said Ginny with a smile "We've got another!"

"What's wrong with Quidditch mommy?"

"Nothing, Lily-Pilly. Do you want to practice flying when Dad leaves for work?"

"Yes! Can I use your broom?" she asked loudly into Harry's ear.

"No, not yet sweetie, and anyway, you have your own broom." said her father, wincing.

"But, it's so sloooooow!"

"No buts, little girl" Lily sulked silently as the three Potters made their way down the winding stairs of their remodeled London home, which was now decorated in inviting shades of crimson and gold, a stark contrast to the dark gloominess it exuded when it was known as the residence of the infamous Black family. Harry sat Lily down in the red velvet cushion of one of the kitchen chairs and turned to hug Lily from behind as she began to cook.

"Honey, I can't stay for breakfast," he said, looking at his watch "I'm already late to meet Ron at the Cauldron."

"Alright, tell him to remind Hermione that dinner is at _our _place tonight."

"Will do, Love you"

"Love you too." said Lily, staring intently at one of her mother's stained recipe cards.

"Bye, bye Little Lily" he said, kissing his daughter on the head.

"I'm not little!" Harry chuckled as he rushed back up the stairs to get ready for work.

Ron, as usual, was arguing with Tom the barman about the Chudley Cannons when Harry came up to the bar to order his goblet of Butterbeer. "Harry, you can back me up," he said as a greeting "with Oliver Wood on the team, they are definitely going to win this year."

"Oh, yes, definitely. I played with him at Hogwarts, and I can tell you, his skills as a keeper are second only to Mr. Weasly's here."

"Is tha' so?" snickered Tom.

"Eh, bugger off, Harry" said Ron with a wry smile.

"Oh, lighten up, Ron I was being serious. Speaking of Quidditch, your nephew just made seeker." said Harry.

"James? Very nice. Just know that it's because he learned everything about that sport from me."

"Yeah, of course."

"It will be a slow day at the office, I think." Said Ron, changing the subject " Buckley and Ambers finished up that supposed imperious last night and Kingsley said that he wants to work on that murder solo today…maybe something else will pop up though."

"I wouldn't mind a slow day," said Harry "I could barley sleep last night."

"Sorry mate," We should drop by Fred's. "I think he's been working on some type of sleep drought for the joke shop. Dip some of it on a piece chalk and your professor sleeps for a class period sort of thing"

"Ah…I think I'll pass," said Harry vividly remembering an experience with Fred and George's puking pastilles. By the look of the greenish tinge seeping into his face, Ron seemed to be thinking along similar lines.

"Mmm, that might be a good idea." He burped, unenthusiastically. After a brief, queasy pause the conversation turned back to Quaffles and Snithces. Harry listened quietly, and became dimly aware of an uneasy feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. He barley heard Ron as he suggested the get going to work, unaware of how entangled he had been in his own thoughts.

"Good morning, Cleo" said Harry absentmindedly as he walked through the door of the Auror's office.

"Hello, Harry" she responded his assistant, just as casually, letting a pair of large, violet eyes stray from her copy of Witch Weekly and straightening slightly out of her slump. There aren't any reports yet, but some mail came in for you this morning."

"Really? From who?"

"No, I'm lying" Harry, absorbed in some notes lying on his desk, seemed not to notice Cleo's sarcasm, as it did with most of her attempts to get Mr. Potter to notice her, and she rolled her eyes with annoyance. "It's from St. Mungo's" she tried to add as much contempt as possible without risking losing her job. Moments later she was nearly sure this move backfired as unfamiliar feeling of dread quickened her heart rate when she saw the expression on her boss' face upon hearing the news. "Is something wrong?" she asked, taken off guard by the tense, bugged appearance of Harry's usually warm and inviting green eyes.

"What? Oh, no, no. Nothing is wrong. Can I see the letter? Harry cursed the way his hands shook as he took it. Trembling, he pried open the seal and pulled out the thick, official looking yellow parchment, choking down his anxiety in a strained gulp. He had almost entirely forgotten about the previous night's strange events with the morning's news. In fact he had secretly been hoping that his encounter with Severus was just one of those vivid dreams he had been so familiar with in his teens. Actually, he was hoping this letter was a dream too."Ron, hit me." He said to his partner.

"What?" Harry had failed to notice that Ron and Cleo were already both staring at him with concerned expressions. Ron's eyebrows shot up painfully high, "Are you alright, mate?"

"Yeah, just...well no...I don't know. Just pinch me or something." Ron, looking rightfully bewildered didn't pass on the offer. "Ow! Shit!" cried Harry

"Well, you asked..."

"I know, but come on," said Harry, rubbing the spot on his arm that was smarting from Ron's overzealous pinch. "Oh Merlin...this letter is still here."

"Harry, what the devil could be on that thing? You're acting like a damn nutter." Ron grabbed the letter from Harry's hands, chuckling. "Did James get kicked off the team already?" Upon reading it, his face fell into further confusion "Is this a bloody joke? Clee, you can't just let any hooligans run around here and leave bogus letters" Cleo attempted to defend herself, but Harry interrupted, leaving her mouth gaping up and down like a dull witted fish.

"Erm...no, no, it's not a joke." Harry sighed heavily, sinking into his chair and covering his face with his hands.

"Wait, you actually believe this? That Snape is alive?"

"It's true." Harry mumbled

"Snape? Like that old teacher everybody hated back in the day?" Harry and Ron and nearly forgotten Cleo's presence and they turned to look at her with such strange expressions that she wished she could apparate right back to her desk. "Um, right, I'm going to go...check the...messages" she said as she scuttled out of the door and sat down at her desk to ponder the odd behavior of her bosses.

Back in Harry's office, Ron was still having a hard time grasping the situation that his best friend had been hiding for so many years.

"Why the hell are they contacting you about this? It's not your responsibility to take care of the old git!"

"Well, actually it is,"

"Harry, what the hell is going on? Why is Snape your problem? Actually, why is he even alive? I mean Hermione said that-"

"I know, I know, we thought he was dead but-"

"Is this what that whole 'bravest man in the world thing' is about? Has be Occlumenced into your head or something and made you into some type of servant?" at that, Harry began to laugh, letting his fingers fall from his face. "What are you laughing at, you little wanker? Is this a prank after all, because, really mate, I thought my brothers taught you better."

"Ron, calm down. You're not even making sense. Occlumenced into my head? Seriously?"

"Oh shut up. And stop laughing for shit's sake."  
"Okay, okay. Do you want to know the story?"

"Know the story? You just got a letter telling you that_ Snape_, who is supposed to be _dead,_ is going to live in _your_ house with my _sister_ and my _nieces_ and _nephews_! Are you mad or am I, Harry, because this does not make sense!"

"Well, you definitely aren't mad...I might be, but there _is_ a sort of explanation. Do you care to hear it?"

"Well, yeah of course I do." Ron stomped over to the couch in the back of Harry's office and plopped down harshly, looking quite sour. "This better be good."

"So," Harry began, finding himself looking anywhere except at the person he was talking to for the second time in two days. It was very uncomfortable, as he was used to dealing with people head on. He felt like a guilty child once again, which was even more bizarre as he was in the presence of Ron his best friend. And he hadn't even done anything wrong! "After the Battle of Hogwarts was over, I sent Narcissa Malfoy to retrieve his body from the Shrieking Shack." a grunt came from the direction of the couch and Harry looked to see Ron staring at him with rapt attention "but," Harry coughed "when she brought him back to Hogwats, we er, found out that he hadn't actually died yet. The venom was moving really slow for some reason, and he still had a pulse"

"Damn undead slimeball. I told you he was a vampire!" Harry forced a chuckle,

"No, he's not a vampire...though that would kind of make sense...anyway, I had this choice to just let him die from it or send him to St. Mungo's to see if they could do anything. I felt like I owed him, because without him I couldn't have...you know."

"Yeah, I know. But I still don't get it, why didn't he die yet? And why didn't you ever tell me? It's been twenty years, Harry!"

"I don't know how he's lasted this long." Harry's head fell in his palms once again "And I don't know why I didn't tell anyone. I just didn't think it would ever come up." Ron snorted.

"Didn't think it would come up? Hell, you must have had some type of post victory delusions. Saving Snape?"

"He wasn't who we thought-"

"Yeah, I know, but he is still creepy. And, I might add, that even though he was 'saving' your life or whatever for all those years he still treated you like a spider stuck on the bottom of his shoe the entire time we knew him."

"This is going to be terrible." said Harry retreating further into his chair.

"Harry, when are you going to learn that helping people never gets you anywhere?" When Harry lifted his head he saw Ron sitting on his desk with a goofy grin "you sure have gotten yourself into a fine mess, mate."

"Yeah..." agreed Harry as he leaned back in his chair. Ron could see that he was regretting his decision, and felt himself soften. Harry just couldn't help being a hero. But still, it was a pain in the ass, just like that time he tried to save everyone underwater at the Triwizard tournament. _This kid really needs to learn how to be _selfish_…or at least _practical_ someday_, he thought.


End file.
